Let Me Be Your Wings
by Tyrror
Summary: Harry's always been able to keep his mind under control when it comes to his past, but when he unexpectedly falls in love everything comes crashing in. Can anyone help him back from the brink? Can Harry find his wings? mm
1. That Place Between Dreams and Awake

A/N: this is my second attempt at this chapter, I've changed a lot and tried to make things make more sense, but it still seems very vague and not as precise as I would like it to be. I may have to rewrite it again soon, but as for now, I plan to move on to chpt. 2 and hopefully be able to draw things together with that, so please enjoy.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, so please do not sue me.

* * *

Chpt. 1 – That Place Between Dreams and Awake

'_Perfect, undefeated, the golden boy…the list goes on and on. Everybody thinks that it must be so great…the fame, the star treatment…but nobody really sees the truth. Look at me, the world may think I'm perfect, but perfect is only as far as the eye can see. They'll never truly understand what it really means to be the-boy-who-lived…'_

Harry stared blankly at a spot on the wall somewhere past the podium as his history of magic professor droned on in his usual, ethereal, monotone voice. Two seats away, what appeared to be a large bush of light brown hair bobbed up and down in time to the scratching of a quill which was most likely the cause of the parchment that trailed off of the desk and onto the floor below, covered in notes. Between the two sat a head of flaming red hair that sparkled ever so slightly in the afternoon sunlight that wove its way down from the tall windows near the roof of the room. The face that accompanied this hair was also blank, just as Harry's and most of the rest of the class for that matter. The only difference was that Ron had his head propped gently on one balled fist, his eyes closed and his breathing slow, obviously asleep. A small amount of drool had just appeared at the corner of Ron's mouth when a strange series of events occurred.

Across the room, there was a rather loud thud, a girl screamed, four people jumped to their feet, Ron's face struck the desk as he pulled his fist from beneath his chin in surprise, and, finally, Professor Binns turned so quickly to the source of the scream that he stepped through his podium, quite by accident. The chaos that ensued lasted no more than the entire span of two minutes, yet to Harry time had been an issue as of late, and here it seemed to last forever. Somewhere in the back of Harry's mind, the scream he heard only moments before echoed and remained, yet it was distorted, it wasn't the same scream, but it wasn't wholly different either. Harry's eyes glazed over as he sunk back into the recesses of his mind and he was vaguely aware of yet another scream somewhere back in the room.

"She's dead! She's dead!"

Back across the room, Lavender, Parvati Patil's best friend stood hollering at the top of her lungs while Parvati lie nearby on the ground, her unconscious form twisted in a very unnatural shape. Lavender's reaction had nearly reached hysterics before Professor Binns responded.

"Now let's not be so dramatic, she has merely been rendered unconscious."

Professor Binns' voice remained his usual monotone throughout his short announcement. Beckoning a boy from across the room who's name Harry never could quite recall, the Professor quickly said in a voice which was obviously meant to be loud enough for all to hear,

"Would you please aid me in transporting Miss Patil to the hospital wing…As for the rest of you, class is dismissed for today."

With that, Professor Binns proceeded to walk through the door, not bothering to open it for the young boy who now carried the unconscious form of Parvati Patil over one shoulder. Due to this the boy had to wait until another student was so kind as to open the door before he was able to exit the room, hauling the corpse like Parvati with him. The now rather befuddled class spent the next few seconds casting confused glances from one to the next before slowly filing out of the room, except for Harry Potter that is.

Harry remained in his seat, his eyes glazed and his face blank as if nothing had even happened. Yet in his mind, Harry was nowhere near Hogwarts' school of witchcraft and wizardry. He was back in his days at grade school. He watched in horror as his first shot at a friend crumbled before his very eyes. A girl his own age had taken a liking to him and done what the rest of the class seemed afraid to do, which was speak to him. But in his nervousness something had begun to churn deep within Harry's chest until it seemed he couldn't hold it back anymore. Suddenly, the little snow globe that Harry had been playing with exploded as he attempted to hand it to the little girl. She only said one more word to him, or rather, screamed it.

"Freak!"

In the back of his mind a girl screamed and a hand flew at his face. Somehow the mental scenario managed to break free and Harry suddenly flung his hands up to guard his face. Hermione and Ron, who had been attempting to wake Harry from his apparent stupor, stumbled backward with the sudden movement. Ron tripped over the parchment Hermione had been writing on only moments beforehand and fell hard onto his backside. Rising from his rather unceremonious position, Ron proceeded to rub both his sore behind and his sore head while Hermione moved back to stand in front of Harry.

"Harry, is everything okay?"

The words sounded slurred and hard to understand in Harry's now muddled brain. Eventually the meaning behind the words sunk in and Harry found himself able to respond.

"Yah…I was just…thinking."

Just like Hermione's, Harry's words sounded slurred and dumb in his own mind, and by the look on his friends faces, they obviously sounded the same to them as well. Harry shook his head viciously, causing his raven like hair to whip around and reveal the lightening bolt scar that marked him as who he is…the-boy-who-lived. Absent mindedly, Harry reached up to cover said mark, but stopped half-way through the motion to grab one arm with the other and pull his cloak sleeve down before reaching up to brush his hair back into place. Forcing a smile at his two best friends, Harry notices the twin looks of worry that cross their face and once again assures them that he's fine. This time his words sound more normal, more solid, and are apparently more convincing to his friends.

Harry knew that the matter wasn't over, but there seemed to be a mutual agreement between them all that now was not the best time to talk. Attempting to lighten the now very somber mood that hovered heavily between the three friends, conversation that seemed more fitting of them began to be made.

"I can't believe that class was cancelled because of a feinting spell. I mean, seriously, couldn't he have just sent her to…"

Harry tuned out Hermione's ramblings about class being canceled and sunk back into his own mind, remembering as best he could what had happened in the classroom. He told them that he was fine, but that was so far from the truth. Something had happened, had been happening, and he didn't like it, but there was only one way to stop it, and he couldn't very well do that right now…or could he? Harry hung his head shamefully at the prospect. It was only for the summer; he had promised himself. He had promised himself that once he got to Hogwarts he was done, but it was beginning to look like he would have to postpone that arrangement.

Their arrival at the portrait of the fat lady brought Harry out of his daze as Ron quickly stated the password to allow them access. Once through the portrait hole, Hermione headed towards the girl's dormitory to drop her books off in her room so Harry and Ron moved off toward the boy's staircase. Once inside the boys' room, Ron turned to face his long time friend.

"Are you sure everything's alright mate? I mean, you looked rather wonked out back there."

Ron's question, as unexpected as it was, caught Harry totally off guard. Harry had hoped that he would at least have until Hermione got back from the girl's dorms before he had to start answering questions. Quickly plastering a smile on his face, Harry responded.

"Yah, I was just a bit out of it."

"I know what you mean, Binns' classes are boring as hell, but still, that was more than just boredom. I don't want to pry but…"

Ron never got to finish whatever argument he was trying to put forth as Harry whirled on him unexpectedly.

"It's nothing Ron! Just leave it along!"

The look of shock and rejection that crossed Ron's face was too much for Harry. As tears welled up in Harry's eyes at the prospect of hurting his friend, he spun about on one foot, whipping his cloak out behind him in a manner more suited to Snape in a temper. Trying no to let Ron here the quiver in his voice, Harry stated,

"I'm going for a walk…I need to think."

And with that, Harry stormed from the dormitory. Passing a rather surprised Hermione on his way out of the common room, Harry didn't even listen to whatever she may have said and left her standing in the portrait hole has he climbed through and rushed down the stairs of Gryffindor tower. It didn't take Harry long to find an exit onto the school grounds and he quickly made his way across the grass to the edge of the lake. Moving into a grove of bushes he had found the year before, Harry made quick work of disappearing somewhere between the green of the grass and the green of the leaves around him. The only way that someone would be able to see him here is if they were directly across the lake, and then they wouldn't be close enough to be any the wiser.

He still couldn't believe that anyone could effect him this much, but that's how this all started, and that's what kept it going. It had all started at the end of his sixth year at Hogwarts. Harry had fallen in love, but that was nothing more than a joke in his own mind…

'Who would want something like you?'

'Love? Who would ever love you?'

The voices rolled around inside his head in a whirlwind of emotion and confusion. The faces of his aunt, uncle, and cousin played games with his mind that he still didn't understand, but there was always one way to make them disappear. Harry fiddled with something pinned to the inside cuff of his robes as a tear ran down his face. He had to make it stop. He had to make it go away.

There was a sharp pain, then another, then the voices started to fade away. A great emptiness filled Harry and his hand felt warm and sticky before all feeling disappeared entirely. He hovered somewhere between dreams and awake, wondering exactly what it meant to be here. He thought he was done with this, and he hated himself for it, but anything was better than wanting what you could never have. Anything was better than feeling the daggers slice at his soul every time those eyes fell on him. Another tear slipped down Harry's cheek as he whispered,

"I'm sorry…"

Then all went black.

* * *

A/N: As I said, it's still kind of vague, but please review and tell me what you think I should change and such to make it better. Any reviews are appreciated, unless they are flames, then they will be used to power my weapons of mass destruction. Thanks for reading.

MK


	2. Blood and Tears

A/N: Sorry it took so long...but college and fanfics don't exactly mix too well...I hope to keep updating more often soon...

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

Chpt. 2 – Blood and Tears

_Tears really are a funny thing. What kind of reaction is it that, when under extreme emotion, the body's immediate reaction is to release the precious water that it spends all day trying to build up. I guess only God can ever truly appreciate the fullness of such things as emotions; such things as fear, love, hate, anger, and frustration…and how closely related they really are._

_Tears really are a funny thing…_

_To bad they can't be stopped…_

The vacuum that Harry left upon his sudden departure from the room was quickly filled with air molecules that were now under extreme scrutinizing by a Mr. Ronald Weasley. Even though it had been many minutes since Harry had stormed out of the room in a fit of anger that had been completely unexpected by the young red-head, it seemed as if Ron was unable to look at anything else. He tried to focus all of his thoughts on that one space, that piece of nothingness where his friend has so recently been, but that was obviously not happening. Slowly a tear streaked from one of his bright blue eyes to trail down his cheek and hand loosely at the tip of his chin before breaking free. It seemed to hang, suspended in mid-air for a moment before making the treacherous trek toward the earth where it shattered upon the cold stone floor. One drop shattered into a million tiny shards of water.

'Just like my heart,' he thought.

The door to the boys' dorm was suddenly wrenched open by a figure distorted by a bushy main of brown hair that appeared to be more frazzled with stress than anything else. In order to save his own face, Ron turned away out of habit, shielding his tears from any intruders.

"What did you do?"

Hermione's voice was harsh and accusing, yet somehow she managed a note of caring that carried easily to Ron's ears and caused him to not retort in his normal snappy manner.

"I…I don't know…I just asked him if he was okay and he…he just blew up…"

Ron's sentence was broken, along with his voice, and it was obvious to the young girl in the room that his throat was constricted for some reason, and only one reason made sense in her mind. Something in the situation made her smile, despite the current situation, and she quickly wiped the smile away and replaced it with a friendly and accepting face, even though the other boy wasn't even looking at her. Her next words came out firm and demanding, but she still managed to instill a voice of caring in them, as if to assure that she was not out to get him.

"Ron, you need to talk to him…"

"Me!"

Ron's voice cracked as he suddenly spun to face Hermione, now uncaring of how his face looked.

"Why just me? You're just as caught up in this as I am. Why can't we talk to him together?"

There was an uncomfortable pause, well, at least uncomfortable for Ron considering it appeared that Hermione's eyes were now glimmering with mischief.

"You know what I mean, Ronald."

With this comment, the horror that could so easily be seen behind a pair of plate sized eyes was quite enough to make even the stone faced Hermione Granger burst into a fit of giggles.

"Yes Ron, I know, and I don't care."

* * *

There was some point throughout the eternal night of one boy's mind that the ink like sky began to fade to a lighter grey and was eventually penetrated by rays of light. It was then that the voices came back. 

'Who do you think you are?...Someone special?...'

'Ha…look at you…'

'Halfbreed!'

Harry shot up, guarding his face with his arms only to be overwhelmed by a wave of nausea. Just as quickly as he sat up, he collapsed into a heap in the same grass he had just risen from. Something sharp cut a gash along the underside of his right eye just deep enough to bleed a good deal and hurt like hell. He could taste the bile rising in his throat and began to gulp down the cool evening air with the hopes of not vomiting all over himself here in the middle of the school grounds. Once he finally had his stomach back under control, Harry tried once more to sit up. The process was slow, and his left arm was basically useless in the process, but after several minutes of struggling and at least two failed attempts, he managed to right himself. Throughout all of this he had managed to keep his eyes closed tight against the ever pressing rays of the sun. Slowly opening one and then the other, Harry winced at the pain and quickly placed a hand to the side of his head as he realized that he could count the beats of his heart from somewhere just beneath his temples. His head was throbbing, only matched by the throbbing in his arm, and it seemed that his chest was about to collapse in upon itself.

It was then that Harry became fully aware of his surroundings. He was still there, still sitting in the middle of a clump of bright green bushes next to the bright blue water of the lake, but there was one major change. The grass was red. It took Harry a moment to realize that this was not some weird natural phenomenon that had caused the grass to grow a different color in this one particular place, but rather the grass had been painted red by an outside source.

'That's not a good thing'

Harry's subconscious seemed to register it long before his conscious mind took control of the situation. How had he been stupid enough to lose that much blood. It was no wonder that he was so lightheaded and utterly weak. His mind was working too slowly for it's own good, and with each passing second it seemed like there was more information trying to get in than was possible to put in there. On top of all that, there were the ever present voices that lingered on the edge of his conscious. With a sudden realization, Harry's good hand shot to his left forearm, confirming that all bleeding had stopped. That took care of one problem didn't it, but that didn't take care of…

'Look at you…no wonder the world hates you…'

Them. They were still there. Slowly, Harry forced himself to stand and start moving. There was no use searching in the blood stained grass for his razor, he wouldn't need it where he was going. His path was long and inconvinent, caused by the constant swaying motion as he walked, unable to keep a strait course with the lightness of his head. It took him nearly a half an hour just to make it back to the castle while the sun sank lower against the lake, giving the castle the look of a fortress housing the dead, and Harry giggled slightly at the irony. Once inside it didn't take long to find the staircase he needed. Stumbing upward, step by step, his feet seemed like lead as he made his way toward the top of the observation tower. The top was in sight, and this was where he would fix everything.

Bursting forth into the now cool night air, Harry paused momentarily to take in the clear sky as the stars began to twinkle to life. Nearly dragging himself to the edge of the tower, he pearched himself precariously on top of one of the blocks that lined the edge. For a moment he managed to think clearly enough to wonder whether he should leave a note, but that thought didn't last long.

* * *

As Ron climbed out of the portrait hole it would have been an understatement to say that he had had a rough night. True, he may not have been through anything overly physical, but his mind what whirling with emotions that he had never even had the chance to think about before, none the less experience. 

'How could she know?'

He still wasn't sure. She just said she knew, and he left it at that. Then the tears had come again. He didn't care anymore whether or not she thought of him as overly strong, he just needed someone to be there for him, and she was. She had held him comfortingly as he cried silently into her shoulder and whispered things that he now realized he couldn't remember to calm him down. All that mattered to him was that she knew, and she didn't care, so he could make everything else work…right?

Once Ron had regained his composure, he quickly washed his face to remove all traces of the weakness otherwise known as tears before he left to find his friend and put a whole mess of ordeals to an end. It was then that he was caught by surprise. Somewhere in the distance, Ron heard a noise that sounded very similar to a sack of potato's being hauled up a flight of stairs, and once he figured out what it was he was rather surprised how close he was.

At the end of the hall, climbing the stairs in a dazed sort of way that Ron had never seen before, Harry drug himself up the stairs as if his body didn't want to move at all. Following his friend, Ron came to the sub-concious decision that, at least for now, it was best to stay quite and see what was going on. Becoming lost in thought about everything that had happened that day, Ron lost his friend near the end of the stairs. Climbing the last few feet, Ron gasped with surprise as he found Harry standing, weaving back and forth and staring at the sky, from atop one of the stones that encircled the top of the tower. The distant look in Harry's eyes worried Ron more than anything else, and he decided instantly that something was wrong, and he had to change it.

"HARRY!..."

* * *

A/N: Things are finally starting to come together, but it still seems kind of blah to me…hopefully you'll see it otherwise…maybe the author is just being to hard on himself…anywho…R&R please…thanx… 

MK


	3. Hitting Rock Bottom

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Chpt. 3 – Hit Rock Bottom

_Destiny really is a funny thing…_

_It is said that destiny, like gravity, is unstoppable…_

_But gravity can be overcome if only you have the strength to keep going…_

_They say that if men were meant to fly, they'd have wings…_

_So why do you make me feel like I'm flying…_

"HARRY!"

Ron's voice seemed to echo in the emptiness of the barren tower top. Slowly, as if a marionette turned deliberately by the hand of God, Harry turned to face his best friend of the past six years. His eyes remained distant and his facial features gave no indication that his ears had even actually heard the other boy's call. It was almost as if he were dead. After a few moments of silence Harry moved as if he were about to turn back around, but Ron was quick to think of something…anything…to say.

"What are you doing up here?"

His words came out drenched with concern and worry that he could not seem to conceal. Said words sunk into Harry's mind at a pace that would have made a snail proud and his emerald eyes seemed to shift from a depthless nothing until they were filled with the kind of sorrow that is only seen shortly before someone commits an act they know to be wrong, yet feel they must do.

"This has nothing to do with you Ron. Go back to the dormitory."

Harry's voice cracked as it faded back and forth between the world of the living and those who just don't care anymore, but that was not all that Ron noticed. Something in the words gave him a foreboding feeling that he could not quite put his finger on.

"Harry, come on man, just tell me…"

"I SAID IT HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH YOU!"

That was when Ron caught on to what felt so wrong the first time Harry spoke, he was lying! Whatever was going on, it apparently had at least something to do with him, if not everything. Somewhere deep in his stomach something moved in a way that it shouldn't and he also came to the conclusion that this fact made him even more nervous than he already was.

"Don't lie to me."

Not only Harry, but Ron himself was surprised at his reaction to Harry's words. He had not planned on being that blunt, but somehow his emotions had altered his plans. Harry's face reveled a moment of shock before returning to its sad, rather empty look. With a seemingly large amount of effort, Harry placed one foot behind the other and made a quick pivoting motion to face the other direction.

"Harry Potter! I'm you're friend for God's sake, don't just leave me wondering like this!"

The world around Ron seemed to shimmer slightly around the edges and he wondered if the night air was getting to him before he realized that he was crying once again. Bringing his right hand up, he used the hem of his cloak to attempt wiping his face, only to fail miserably. Before him, Harry stood silhouetted against the newly rising moon that wasn't quite full, but was quickly approaching. His raven black hair swayed slightly in the slight breeze that had managed to pick up in the short time he had been outside and, just for a second, Ron could have sworn he had been watching something that feel from the heavens. Something shimmered slightly, a tiny drop that fell from somewhere beyond Harry's face and rushed out of view as it slipped through the air beyond the tower's edge.

Harry leaned forward.

In that moment Ron mastered a skill that even the famed Hermione Granger hadn't quite fully tamed yet, he cast a spell without speaking. Before he realized what he was doing, Ron had retrieved his wand from his front inner cloak pocket and was holding it before him. The oddest thing was that, of all the spells Ron knew, this was one he had never learned. Rather, he had only seen it used once. It was commonly known as a "Chain Charm" and he had once seen it used by his mother in an attempt to tame the twins. The effect of the spell is to cause two objects to be chained together by a luminous, green, magical chain. In this specific case, it brought about the result of connecting Harry's left wrist to Ron's right and, with a sudden jerking motion, brought Harry's attempted fall to a halt.

Now suddenly repositioned on top of the edge of the tower, Harry seemed to be staring intently at his shoes which just stuck out from under the hem of his Cloak. There was a croak, followed by the telltale noise of someone who is crying rather hard attempting to talk. It was only then that Ron realized the way his shoulders were bobbing slightly in time with, what Ron could only assume, to be his staggered breathing.

"Harry?..."

It seemed like that was all that would come out. There was so much that was running through his mind, and yet all that Ron could manage to say was his name, but at least it appeared to get some sort of reaction out of Harry, who jumped at the sound of his name.

"Harry? Please, tell me what's going on…"

"Just answer me one question."

Harry's response was not at all what Ron had been expecting.

"Answer me fir…"

"ONE QUESTION!"

Harry tottered dizzily from the effort it took him to yell so loudly while it was apparent he was already having trouble breathing. 'I wonder if he's hyperventilating' Ron thought to himself. The silence only seemed to deepen in the two seconds after Harry's question, but that lead to him speaking again, waiting for no response from the red-head.

"Do you love me?"

Ron's mouth fell open in astonishment. Obviously Harry could not see this due to the fact that he was facing the other direction, yet something still caused him to suddenly break out in a sob. Even though he wanted to say something, anything, all Ron could seem to do was stand there gaping like a fish out of water and hoping that he could fix all this soon, what ever "this" was. It was then that it came to his realization that Harry had removed his wand from his cloak as well. Rushing towards Harry, Ron realized that he was already too late.

"Bombarda!"

The chain that bound the two together burst into a shower of luminous green flames before vanishing into the cool night air. Reaching the edge of the tower, Ron groped blindly due to the magnificent flash and managed to gain hold of one of Harry's hands, but it wasn't enough. The two toppled over the edge of the tower and Ron felt his stomach slide somewhere closer to his teeth as the world was suddenly inverted. Falling headfirst over the edge of the tower, Ron tightened his grip on Harry and managed to pull himself below the other boy, looking him dead in the eye. Somewhere in the distance he was quite certain he heard a scream, but all that mattered at the time was Harry and the fall. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Ron remembered the old adage…

'It's not the fall that kills you; it's the sudden stop at the end…'

'Well, that gives me about ten seconds' he thought glumly to himself.

Looking deep into two emerald green pools, Ron saw nothing but fear and surprise. Obviously, this isn't what Harry had planned. He wrapped his arms around the smaller boy and tried to calm himself as he looked upward toward the quickly receding night sky.

* * *

On top of the tower, a glowing green chain had just burst into flames that nearly blinded Hermione who stood motionless in the shadows of the stairwell. Only once the flare had faded did the young girl realize everything that had happened. Harry had managed to break the spell that Ron had used and, in the moment of confusion, had jumped off the tower. Shocked as she was, this was only made worse as Ron attempted to stop him and toppled over the edge in the process, joining his friend. Fumbling in her cloak, Hermione seemed unable of the speed withdraw that the two boys had so easily accomplished just moments earlier. Tearing the inside lining of her cloak in the desperate attempt to get to her wand, Hermione rushed to the edge of the tower and looked down screaming.

"Arresto Momentum!"

Down below, she was unsure of whether or not the spell took effect. All she knew was she needed to find help.

* * *

The wind rushed past Ronald Weasley's ears as he plummeted toward the earth from atop the astronomy tower at Hogwarts School of witchcraft and wizardry. Looking up at the top of the tower, he caught a glimpse of what he thought to be brown, rather poofy, hair as it bobbed off into the night. He knew that this wasn't right, it shouldn't have turned out like this, but what had he to say in the matter now. Suddenly there was a feeling like a hook in the pit of his stomach and it was almost as if he was falling through Jell-O rather than air. The decrease in speed was not much, but it was noticeable even to Harry who broke from his trance to look at Ron rather puzzledly before a look of sheer terror overtook him. Then they hit the ground.

The pain that ran through Ron was unbearable as he gazed skyward, how he managed to survive at all was beyond him, but it didn't seem like it would last long. The world was slowly getting darker from the outside in and he was rather surprised to suddenly find the whole of his field of vision filled with the face of Harry Potter. Somewhere deep inside, he felt a great sense of pride at being able to protect at least one person in this world. He smiled slightly before coughing, a few drops of blood landing on his lips in the process. Tears welled up in Harry's eyes and one fell, warm and wet onto Ron's cheek. The tear streaked away, leaving the impression that Ron was the one crying, but he continued to smile while his voice croaked out from somewhere in his throat.

"There's your answer"

With that his eyes rolled slightly, as if acknowledging a bad joke before the slid back into his head and eventually closed. Somewhere in the distance Harry heard someone curse under their breath. Startled, he looked up to see a figure dressed all in black staring back at him. A scythe glinted slightly in the moonlight, but it wasn't the scythe that had Harry's attention, it was the two eyeless sockets that seemed to bore into his very soul. The voice that seemed to float from somewhere in the general direction of the figure was like two blocks of lead being ground together. Two very confused blocks of lead…

"The schedule never changes…"

The cloaked figure pulled a roll of parchment out of his sleeve and looked it over carefully.

"Harry Potter – Twelve minutes after the stroke of midnight – Location: Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry astronomy tower"

The figure replaced the parchment and Harry swore he heard something like "Damn you boy" before the being vanish…and then he found the comfort of darkness.

* * *

A/N: Yes…I know…I'm a horrible person but…bah…I had to leave it there if I ever expect you to come back…okay so there are many of you that would come back anyway when you saw what's next, but still…nothing is more fun for a writer than leaving the readers going… "WTF…how can you just stop there"…I know…I'm a demon…deal with it…but other than that…you can make me want to write more by REVIEWING…latta…

MK


	4. Amusing Fate

A/N: I apologize for the weirdness of this chapter. I have been rather out of it lately and, due to that, have been very prone to doing things more odd than normal. I'm not quite sure what made me want to randomly throw the gods into this story, but I did and now it has a whole new aspect to it…let's see where this goes then, how bout that…

* * *

Chpt. 4 – Amusing Fate

_They say you can't cheat Death,_

_That you can't escape Destiny,_

_But that doesn't me you can't run like hell,_

_And hope above all else that Fate will deal you a winning hand…_

A pair of slippers slapped lightly against the hard stone floor of the Hogwarts' castle and a deep midnight colored nightgown fluttered lightly behind its owner as they ran through the halls. With each corner, each flight of stairs, every new corridor put them a little further ahead of the other two that followed closely behind. A pointed black hat attempted to fly off the top of their head, but was caught rather fluidly by the owner who continued to run without so much as pausing to catch said hat. The ground floor brought forth a new burst of speed as they passed through a small side door that led them out onto the grounds and across a small clearing. Rounding one last corner, Professor Mcgonagall muttered two words that would haunt her for the rest of her life.

"Oh, gods!"

Within moments, Hermione Granger and Madam Hooch emerged from the shadows behind her, panting slightly from the exertion of running down six flights of stairs and through half of the school. Madam Hooch appeared as if she was not fazed at all, but rather went about her duties as healer, proceeding upon the crumpled mass of body parts before them. On the other hand, Hermione burst rather silently into tears before finding herself wrapped tightly in the headmistress' arms.

"Minerva, we need to get these boys to the hospital wing as soon as possible. I can't do much from here…"

Madam Hooch's voice seemed cold and rather stern, but when faced with such a gruesome moment one can only do what they have been trained to do. So putting aside all emotion, Madam Hooch did her best to keep some semblance of control over the situation while Professor Mcgonagall nodded mutely and released Hermione only to grab her own wand and a mutter a spell.

* * *

Somewhere in the depths of an unknown dimension, a very angry sounding figure dressed all in black stood across the room from another vaguely human shaped being. The room was what most humans would call "bright white" but technically it was even more colorless than white can possibly be used to describe. Standing at one side of a white marble table was a figure that had, until recently, been located at the foot of the astronomy tower at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Across the table from him stood a being dressed all in white that might have been describe as female, but then again, it might not. A dress was draped from one shoulder and fluttered down about her frame until it brushed lightly on the floor about her sandal clad feet. Long golden hair billowed from her head and fell gently about her shoulders, glimmering in some sort of none existent light, but none of this mattered compared to her eyes. Her eyes were the sort of green that made you think of emeralds glinting in the sunlight. The sort of green that made you think of grass in bright midday after a storm. They were the kind that drew you in and never let you go, and those eyes now fell on a skeletal hand as it smashed into the tabletop between them.

"What made you think you could do such a thing?"

The voice of Death sounded oddly reminiscent of nails on a chalkboard, but heavier. The words seemed to weigh down the air of the room as they traveled across to the lady that stood opposite him. Her response was rather unexpected. She laughed. Not the haughty laugh that you normally expect from a goddess, but the kind of giggle that emanates girlish innocence. Enraged at this reaction, Death hurled his famous scythe across the room to embed itself deep into the marble wall of the room.

"You have no right to be changing my list, especially not without asking me."

The laughter stopped and the beautiful green eyes that made you feel as if nothing could ever go wrong suddenly changed. The glint vanished and a darkness consumed them that gave the feeling of being trapped in a never-ending forest, a feeling of hopelessness that didn't seem to effect Death in the least, yet somewhere deep within his cloak, his bones clattered as a chill ran up his spine.

"I have the right to do what I will. The boy amuses me, and you will not deny me what I wish. I have plans for him, you would do well to remember that and not disobey me."

The warmth of the room seemed to seep out of it at the harshness of these words and Death was quick to shrink back against a wall, trying to hide his stick-thin frame behind anything he could find.

"Yes, mistress"

He muttered quickly before gathering his scythe from the wall and turning to fade through the wall, but not before he got in his last words.

"Damn woman, thinks she runs everything"

Lightning flashed somewhere nearby as Death traveled through time and space.

"That's because I do!"

Her voice echoed off of mountain tops and down into the valleys as Death passed by. Angrily he snapped his fingers and a nearby bird's heart stopped.

* * *

Hovering in yet another dimension, Harry Potter appeared to be floating in eternal darkness. At least, it was eternal in any direction Harry seemed to be able to look in. He remembered that he used to love this darkness. That it used to be where he would hide, that it used to be his one true home, but then everything changed. No one could possibly understand what it meant to be him, what all he had to go through on a daily basis. Even more so, no one knew exactly how much it affected him. He was always strong, always the one that people could turn to if they ever needed help, or a shoulder to lean on, and he never asked for help…never…but that all changed when the lights went out. By night he was no better than anyone else. In fact, in his own mind, he was worse. At some point throughout his life his so called family had managed to convince him that he truly was worthless, that he truly deserved no better than what he got, and that was when it almost started. Then he was saved.

A man, far too big to ever be considered fully human came to him one night and told him that he was a wizard. Harry Potter, a boy worthy of nothing, was famous. This was too much for him to take, but even better was that this big man, this man he had never met, stood up for him against his family. He gave that fat ass cousin of his a pig's tail, and then took him away. That was the day that Harry met Rubious Hagrid and his entire world had changed, but not for nearly as long as he thought it would have. Soon he also met his two best friends, Ronald Wesley and Hermione Granger, the ever-clumsy red-head and the most gifted witch of her age.

His life was perfect, or at least closer to perfect than it had ever been, but somewhere deep in the back of his mind the words his family told him for so many years haunted him. He had managed to give himself companionship, he had even allowed himself friends, but when his heart reached out for love, something happened. He couldn't seem to allow himself to take what he wanted. Something deep inside told him that he didn't deserve it, that he wasn't good enough for something like love. Because of this he sabotaged his own first love without even knowing it. He picked the wrong red-head.

It didn't take long for him to realize what he had done, but once he realized what had happened, he wasn't quite sure how to change it. Eventually he had managed to sever his ties from the young girl without too much pain for either of them, but that was when all hell broke loose. He had been so focused on trying to get rid of Ginny without hurting her that he hadn't even thought about what to do next, and what that would mean for his life. As reality sunk in, he began to see exactly what all this meant, and that's when it all started.

He was a freak. He was something that was supposed to have died long ago, but had somehow managed to survive, only to be hated by those who were supposed to love him. Now he was twice the freak that he had always been. He was gay, or at least bi, and there was no way that he could change that or any other part of him. How could anyone possibly love something that was as messed up as this? His world slowly sunk back into the blackness that it had once lived in all those years ago. The tears came at night, unbidden, and the pain chased him through his sleep like monsters through the dark. Nothing seemed to make any of the sense that it had only a few months before. Then he found the darkness.

It was deep, it was enveloping, and it was all that he needed to escape everything. To escape the world he just had to shut himself away in a dark corner. But no corner was dark enough to hide from his own thoughts. Now he had found that darkness. It had started out with just the pain. The pain could numb him, and make it like he wasn't really part of this world, but soon that evolved so that even the pain couldn't keep the voices out. That's when the darkness came. He tried so hard to make the pain work that it had gone too far, the pain had been too much for his body to bear and he had slipped into a kind of darkness that he had never seen before. That was the darkness he floated in now, but it was no longer his friend.

From somewhere in the darkness Harry could hear, over and over again, the sound of a body hitting the earth. He could still see the look on his friends face, and the way his body was twisted in ways that no human body should ever have to bend, but that wasn't what haunted him the most. What had left him curled in the fetal position, sobbing into himself were the last words he remembered Ron saying.

"There's your answer."

Why was he so stupid? Why did he have to think that just because there was no immediate answer that the real answer must be no. He had to jump to conclusions before jumping for real, and then he had to sacrifice his friend…his love…to find out. The words hovered on the outer edge of his unconsciousness until the light came back, and for once, he was glad for the light, though dreading what it might bring.

* * *

Harry awoke to find himself lying beneath a cool sheet while the moon hung high outside of a nearby window. A single candle burned on the bedside table to his left, and in front of the table sat a chair with Hermione Granger in it. Her face was streaked with the marks of tears and her hair looked more mussed than it normally did, indicating that she had most likely been running frantic hands through it. Her chest rose and fell lightly, indicating that she must have fallen asleep while keeping watch. She must have been so exhausted. It was only then that Harry noticed the hand that she held in her own, and something deep within him seemed ready to fight even though it was so obvious that his body just couldn't handle that right now. He remembered this feeling, this feeling of wanting what you can't have and hating whoever has it.

Looking on, time moved in seconds or hours for Harry Potter. He seemed to be staring at the two of them for what felt like hours to him, but somewhere inside he knew that it was only a few seconds to the rest of the world. Slowly he removed himself from his bed, placing his feet gingerly on the floor. His body was not ready for movement so shortly after all this abuse, but he couldn't stand to lie there any longer. Taking one step at a time, Harry was careful to walk around the end of Ron's bed and end up on the opposite side from the now sleeping Hermione. He stood there, looking down at the ragged and shallow breathing of his one time best friend and wondered how he could ever redeem himself after this, even if there had been some sort of love to begin with. The love of two friends just couldn't cut this.

Harry jumped slightly as he heard the sound of wooden sandals clunking lightly on the stone floor. Turning rather clumsily due to all his injuries, Harry found a woman dressed in a pure white gown that seemed to hang lightly from one shoulder down to the floor staring back at him. Her hair seemed to flutter slightly in a non-existent breeze, but it was her eyes that caught his breath the most. He had only seen one other pair of eyes that even came close to the startling beauty behind those that were now before him, and those eyes belonged to his mother. She smiled gently, and that smile seemed to fill him with a hope that he had never felt before. Somewhere in the back of his mind he found himself questioning how she had managed to get into the room without opening the door, but that thought was soon wiped from his mind as she began to speak.

"I have given you one chance Harry Potter, don't mess this one up."

Harry started to question what she meant, but his words were quickly cut off as she raised one finger as if to call for silence. Said silence seemed to slice through the room like a knife and Harry was beginning to wonder why he couldn't talk when she spoke again.

"To Thine Own Self Be True…"

With that, the lady otherwise known to the world as Fate turned to walk away and seemed to shatter into, for lack of a better term, a glitter made from pure light. This glitter dissipated throughout the room before vanishing completely. Her words rung silently throughout Harry's mind, but the moment she left, so did the hope that she had inspired. Seating himself lightly on the edge of Ron's bed, Harry leaned down close to his face and looked deeply into his friends closed eyes. Quickly and quietly, Harry placed his lips on those of his friends, jumping back at the rashness of his own actions. Leaning in again, this time Harry placed his mouth alongside his friend's ear as he whispered for the second time that day,

"I'm sorry…don't forget me…"

With that finished, he stood up and started to hobble his way lightly toward the door only to be stopped once again by the sound of footsteps behind him. This time they were light, and carried the slight "whoosh" that was characteristic of any which or wizard wearing robes. A feminine voice rang in his ears from somewhere behind him and he was surprised to find himself listening to Hermione.

"He wouldn't have to remember, if you'd stop trying to leave…"

Harry found a hand on his shoulder that was forcing him to turn around to face his female friend. The look on her face was one that implied total understanding of the situation, and even more compassion, yet how she could possibly understand all of this he couldn't even guess. From somewhere over her shoulder, Harry heard something that sounded like cloth rustling, and she grinned, that kind of grin that told you something was up.

"I think I'll leave the two of you to figure this out for yourselves."

Somehow Hermione had managed to get around Harry and was now standing halfway through the slightly opened door to the Hospital wing.

"I'll be right outside if you need me…"

* * *

A/N: I have no idea what made me do all of that…that was so not what I was planning when I stared this chapter but I hit the whole idea of Death and Fate and blah blah blah and you see where we ended up…I hope that you all liked it, latta…

MK


	5. And They Danced

Chpt. 5 – And they Danced

_Some say that Fate is a fickle friend…_

_But some have never met her…_

Something about the way that Hermione fell back onto the heavy wooden door of the hospital wing and then slid slowly to the ground gave off the impression that things were not all going as well as they had originally seemed. Hermione was no stranger to strong faces and little white lies and because of that had been able to master them in even the most dire of situations, like this one. Ron had nearly died, and Harry very well would have had Ron not been there to protect him or she there to protect them both, but even that had not been enough. Sure, he had survived, but only just barely, and with all the effort that Madame Hootch and Professor McGonagall could muster. Now he lay sleeping, or rather passed out, under the cool white sheets of the Hospital wing beds that they were all to familiar with.

Her head fell to rest between her knees as something within her finally gave way and she began to sob silently to herself. Needless to say, she was sick of this.

* * *

Harry stood staring blankly at the door. There is no way that anyone can say today had been a normal day, or a normal night. Harry had his first literal run in with death, and now met a nameless woman who tells him he has one chance, and to take it. Something in the back of his mind starts to work way to fast as he suddenly comes to the conclusion that the whole world thinks that they must understand everything and that he's just demented…Well they're wrong.

"What makes you think that you even begin to know who I am?"

Harry's words reverberated off the high ceiling of the hospital wing and caused numerous bats to take flight in surprise. Across the room there was a rustling of cloth that brought Harry back to the present and caused him to turn sharply, almost tipping with the effort. Catching himself on the nearby brass of a bed, Harry realized that he had heard Ron as he shuffled fitfully beneath his sheets. Harry shuddered as he stood and watched while Ron jumped around in some sort of unseen torture, eventually throwing the sheets from his body and onto the floor. Without really thinking of what he was doing, Harry moved around the bed that had been acting as a leaning post for him and moved to retrieve the sheet from the floor. Draping it gently back over his best friend, Harry tucked each of the corners back in around him and then cautiously ran a hand through the bangs that were now plastered to Ron's forehead with sweat. He went still.

Thinking that something had gone horribly wrong Harry did the only thing that made sense in his mind at that point in time. He cried. Grabbing Ron's hand, Harry placed his forehead against the sweaty brow of his best friend and began to talk in a manner of hysterics only capable to someone who had just lost true love.

"Ron…Ron…I'm so sorry…I never meant…you weren't supposed…how could you?…why would you?..."

His voice trailed off into a string of inaudible syllables and letters that made no sense. The strange, strangled noises that were coming from Harry eventually melded together to a heavy sob that was shortly followed by,

"You ass…I loved you…How could you leave me too?"

His fist came up and was plunging back to earth with dead aim at the center of Ron's chest when he heard something that he had never hoped to hear again.

"Harry?"

The voice was raspy and sounded as if it were coming from a throat full of sawdust, but it was still his, it was still Ron's, and that's all that mattered. Harry moved quickly to respond but found there was nothing to respond to, at least nothing that would listen. The other boy was still asleep, calmly asleep, but asleep none the less. The words, as Harry surmised, must have slipped out in his sleep. Tears once again slipped out of Harry's eyes, but now for two reasons. The most obvious was that Ron was alive, and he would have given anything for that to be true. The other was that he had admitted it out loud. Obviously no one had heard, but he had, and that just proved the truth if to no one other than himself. The famous Harry Potter was in love.

* * *

High in a mountain range found somewhere in the middle of Sweden a mother called to her daughter in the kind of voice that can only imply chores are coming. Sipping gingerly on a glass of tea made from a plant that became extinct close to the year twelve A.D. The Lady Known as Fate smiled gingerly to herself as she waited for her daughter to enter the room.

* * *

A tear slipped down Harry's nose and dripped off onto Ron's face, which was still only inches away from his own, causing the red-head to flinch slightly in his sleep. Oddly enough, this caused Harry to smile, if only for a second. His world may be falling apart piece by piece, but at least he still had Ron, and at least Ron was still able to flinch. That's more than he can say for some others. It was then that he noticed the sound.

It resembled the sound of a clock…a very large clock. The sound that is made by a pendulum in a grandfather clock, only amplified a hundred times. With each swing of the invisible pendulum Harry noticed that Ron's breathing slowed and that the next swing came just a little bit later. Until,

"Tick…Tock……Tick…………..Tick…………………."

It stopped entirely. Knowing that this was not normal, Harry turned to see what exactly was going on and found himself once again face to face with a being most mortal men don't even get the chance to see once. She stood, framed by the closed doors to the room, looking at Harry with an expression that could only be described as curiosity. She wore a dress that contoured to her body with every curve. It was made of what seemed to be silver silk and shimmered as she moved in the light to show that it was also intertwined with threads of black and gold. Her pitch black hair was pulled up into a bun on the back of her perfectly oval face and held in place by a large pair of what looked like chopsticks engraved one each with a silver and golden dragon. Her eyes reflected amber and gold as well as a light that was not really present in the darkened room, but none of that really mattered to Harry. What caught his attention was what she held.

Her left arm was crooked at the elbow to allow for her hand to remain in front of her, palm up. Resting gently on that palm was a metronome that seemed to have become stuck halfway through the forward stroke.

"You did this." Harry whispered.

It was more of a statement of fact than a question, but the lady responded as if it were a question without heed.

"Yes, I did. My mother has asked that I come. She asks that I remind you what it is like…what it is like to fall in love."

The hand of Time rose more as if gravity had no real effect on it rather than it was being lifted up to point slightly beyond Harry's right ear to a now motionless figure. Her hand moved as if to beckon some invisible force to her and then, to Harry's astonishment, Ron rose from…himself. A shimmering version of the red-head seemed to step out of his injured body and stood, rather confused, in the center of the room.

"You are afraid to love, so before you can live with the love that you deserve, Harry Potter, you must first believe that you are in love, and then prove to yourself why."

The room around Harry began to distort, to twist and blur in ways that he had never experienced and could never properly explain to anyone no matter how many times he tried. The only thing that seemed to remain clear was Ron's face, but even the rest of him was blurred slightly. As the room became a wash of colors and lights, Harry heard a voice far in the distance call to him.

"Do not be afraid, Harry Potter."

The voice was calm, and carried an air of higher knowledge and for some reason that reassured him. Then he hit the ground.

Harry came back to reality in a place that he never thought could ever possibly be recreated. Standing before him was Ron, dressed in a white button down shirt covered by a black blazer. Looking down he found himself to be dressed in quite a similar fashion except that his blazer and trousers were not black, but just as white as his undershirt…and so was his bowtie. Around them the snow fell inside the great hall as the Yule Ball entered its early morning hours.

Ron turned to Harry with a look that just seemed to scream 'What the hell?' but he never actually got the chance to voice his opinion as Harry stated,

"Don't ask, I really don't know."

Looking around the room, Harry saw that it was indeed the Yule Ball, just the way it had been three years prior when the Triwizard Tournament took place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The giant snow covered trees stood in the distance, though now darkened, obviously to set the mood, and the band played gentle slow songs that are easy to dance by from a stage that could just barely be made out from where Harry stood. Just out of sight Harry knew that the few couples left at the dance were most likely dancing in the dark recesses of the room…or at least he hoped they were dancing. Harry had forgotten just how beautiful the Yule Ball had been, the snow, the music, the romance, but then there was a hand on his shoulder.

Startled back to reality, Harry looked up to see his freckle-faced best friend looking down the inch and a half into Harry's eyes as if to ask again what was going on.

"I told you, I don't know. I've just learned recently to go with whatever happens."

"That wasn't what I was going to say, Harry."

Harry's eyes snapped back to those of his friend's with a bit more shock and surprise than was probably necessary. This only seemed to cause Ron to fidget more.

"So what were you going to say?"

Harry's words were calm and reassuring, hoping to make up for the way he had looked at Ron only moments earlier, but it didn't seem to be working. After numerous seconds of total silence, a sound that oddly resembled a cry for help, only much more like a very quiet squeak, escaped Ron's lips.

"Ron, come on, I'm sorry I looked at you funny but this is really a bit of an overreaction to something so…"

"Do you want to dance?"

Harry froze. Was he hearing correctly? He couldn't be. There was no way in the world that Ron had just asked him to dance. With his mouth still half-open from his unfinished sentence, Harry managed bob his head up and down one, causing Ron to release a breath that it seemed he had been holding for a good minute or two. Holding out his hand, Harry took it without speaking, and without looking away from Ron's face.

Then something happened. Harry remembered every time he had put Ron in danger, every time his best friend had been there to try to save his sorry hide from whatever may come. He remembered how many times Ron had thrown himself in harms way in order to protect Harry, and something inside him gave way. He lunged forward into his friends arms and felt them wrap warm and tight around his waist. There was no hesitation, there was no denial, there was only them, there was only now. Harry's arms slid around Ron's neck and he seemed to all too easily find the crook in his friend's neck where his head could rest so comfortably. It seemed like everything finally made sense, this is what he had been looking for all along. There was no denying that he was in love,

'At least not to myself…' He thought.

It was then that he noticed that a hand had been removed from his waist and was now resting gently on his cheek. Looking up into the deep, ice blue depths that hovered only an inch or so away, Harry allowed himself to be drawn toward them by the warmth of that hand that now pressed so gently against his skin. Something in him wanted to scream, wanted to say that he should run, that he shouldn't let this happen, but something stopped that voice from making any difference. Silencing that voice was another, one that merely said,

"Do not be afraid, Harry Potter."

Lips touched and once again Harry was sure that this was what he had been looking for. He smiled into the kiss which caused Ron to pull back suddenly. The shocked look on Ron's face was only matched by the hurt and confusion reflected in Harry's emerald eyes.

"Harry, I'm so sorry…I never meant to…I don't know why…I wasn't thinking…"

Ron was cut off as Harry's lips once again met his. Something within both of them seemed to scream for something more, but neither could seem to react. Harry merely melted back into the arms of the slightly taller red-head who also happened to now hold his heart in the palm of his hand. They went dancing, around and around, without any cares, and his first true love was holding him close…

And just for a moment, he wasn't scared.

From somewhere in the distance Harry's subconscious made the realization that the music was slowing, but not because the song was almost over. The room once again began to swirl with colors and lights and Harry found himself suddenly pulled away from Ron.

Back in the Hospital wing, Harry landed on the hard stone floor with a loud thud.

* * *

On the outside of the Hospital wing doors Hermione was so engrossed in thought that she almost didn't notice the bright light that was suddenly coming out from the crack under the heavy oak doors. Startled into action, Hermione jumped to her feet and began to shove the door open, afraid of what she would find on the other side, but she didn't get as far as she had planned. The door wouldn't seem to budge, and she began to panic. Harry's actions had been rather self-destructive as of late and she was not going to let anything happen as long as she stood mere feet away. Whipping out her wand, Hermione shouted the first spell she could think of and watched as a bolt of red light flew out of the tip of her wand and struck the wood of the door and accomplished…absolutely nothing. The spell was meant to push obstacles out of the way, but it hadn't even effected an old wooden door, or had it. She noticed now that the door was indeed being forced back, but at a speed so ungodly slow as to be almost unnoticeable.

Pushing with all her might, Hermione forced the door to keep moving just far enough that she could get into the room and burst through to see a tall woman looking at Harry and saying things to him that Hermione could not hear. Everything in the room seemed to be moving in slow motion, including her.

* * *

After Harry landed he caught a small glimpse of the spirit Ron slip back into his body before Time began to speak.

"This will not turn out like the others…Do not be afraid, Harry Potter."

As she spoke the black and gold threads in her dress began to move of their own accord, twisting and turning in ways that did not make physical sense. Her words seemed to hover in the room, giving the air a heavy feel, weighing it down like sweet incense.

"Time stands still for no one…Remember this, Harry Potter."

With that, the threads of her dress shot out in every direction possible, unraveling the silken garment and taking her with it. All that was left was the heavy feel of her words. In the distance, Harry heard a clock begin to tick and then the sound faded away as Hermione burst through the door.

"Harry, what happened in here?"

"Hermione…I…I…"

A smile crossed the features of the bushy-haired brunette and she spoke her words softly as realization struck her what he was trying to say.

"I know, Harry…now tell him that."

Somewhere in the back of Harry's mind he questioned how she always seemed to know what he was thinking, but he figured he could leave that for another time.

* * *

A/N: That was actually LONGER than I planned on making it…which is weird cuz I normally plan long chapters…but anywho, I hope to get more writing done this weekend but I never know what kind of mood I'll be in…please keep checking back though, as in the next installment we get a slightly better glimpse into why Fate is so interested in Harry and what caused the depression that got this whole thing started… 


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